?Chapter 1677:


    rmed, her stillness resembled that of a corpse.


    “Mom!” he called out, his voice shaking, but she didn’t answer. A wave of icy fear surged through him. He edged closer, gently nudging her, but she remained still.


    Dreading the worst, he ced a trembling finger beneath her nose to check for breath.


    Nothing.


    Her skin felt cold under his touch.


    “Mom!” Conor cried out, his voice breaking as he pulled back the nkets, revealing a deep, crusted wound on Madge’s wrist, the blood long dried and darkened. It was clear she had been dead for a while.


    Overwhelmed by grief and guilt, Conor pped himself, struck by the agonizing realization that his mother had chosen death to end the unbearable suffering of her illness.


    When Jalen saw their mother’s cold form, his resentment burst forth uncontrobly.


    He lunged forward, seizing Conor by the cor as rage consumed him. “I told you to ask Brenna for money, but you refused! If you’d done it, we could’ve treated Mom. Do you think she would’ve taken her life then? This is your fault, Conor—you drove Mom to her death!”


    Conor had endured his brother’s arrogance for years. There had been countless moments when he’d wanted to knock some sense into him, but he had always held back, fearing it would distress their mother.


    Now that she was gone, there was nothing left to hold him back.


    Putting all his strength behind the punch, he struck Jalen square in the face and bellowed, “You’ve got the guts to point fingers at me? What exactly did you do? Mom was seriously ill and needed help, yet you refused to borrow money for her, saying it’d hurt your reputation as an official. Which mattered more to you—your career or Mom’s life? Face it, you never cared about her. You’re as self-centered as Dad!”


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    Jalen hadn’t expected Conor to hit him. For years, no matter how vicious his taunts had been, Conor would argue but never throw a punch. Jalen had always looked at him as someone weak, so he bullied him without fearing any real consequence.


    Now that Conor had finally struck back, fury consumed Jalen. Heunched an attack, but before his blow couldnd, Conor answered with a savage punch, knocking out a mr and swelling Jalen’s face.


    Conor didn’t stop, raining down relentless strikes while shouting, “You didn’t lift a finger to help, and now you’re ming me for everything? Mom had been ill for years. Have you once stayed the night to watch over her? Have you paid a single cent to treat her? All you ever did was take money from her. She was sick, and you forced her to scrape together money to help you advance in your career. You leech off Mom and Dad. You should be the one to die. Why don’t you just drop dead?”


    “Conor!” Jalen cried out, battered, unable to fight back. He staggered until his spine hit the wall as blow after blownded. “Do you hear what you’re saying? Mom killed herself because you failed to get money to treat her. How dare you pin this on me?”


    “I failed to get the money? I told you to borrow from Brenna as well. You did nothing while Mom suffered. Her deathnds squarely on you. My conscience is clear. I cared for Mom for years, and I hold no guilt. I borrowed money for her and buried myself in debt. But you—what did you ever do for her?”


    Jalen tried to dodge a swing but lost his bnce and hit the floor hard. Conor kept up the assault. He straddled Jalen and began hammering him with relentless blows.


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